


A warm welcome and a cold Christmas

by Clofix



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Christmas, Colds, Family, Fluff, Hasetsu, M/M, Makkachin - Freeform, Marriage Proposal, Onsen, Sickness, a lot of fluff, also viktors Birthday, i think???, proposal, some heated kissing though I think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-11 02:11:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11704647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clofix/pseuds/Clofix
Summary: After the canon plot, they celebrate cristmas. Also someone catches a cold.Sorry, what marriage proposal?





	A warm welcome and a cold Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> By all means, why am I publishing a christmas fic in August? Well, I just found this in my fanfiction folder. I had originally written this as a secret santa gift. I think they won't mind if I publish this now. If they do they can bloody tell me, otherwise, please enjoy.

The Cup of China had been stressful already, with Yuuri struggling to sleep and generally being a nervous wreck. And then the Rostelecom Cup had offered completely new complications with Makkachin getting into hospital. Yuuri would not have expected himself to do so well in the freestyle without Victor around. He had nailed it, after all.

  
Then, reunited with Victor in Barcelona just in time for the finale, Yuuri was anything but chill. That nervousness had made him train hard though, which allowed him to nail everything in the Grand Prix Final. He had been so hyped to feel Victor' embrace before the performance that his presentation score carried him onto a new personal best.

Still, once he had left the stadium after that press conference, Yuuri wanted nothing but to curl up, favourably in Victor’s arms, and sleep for three days straight. On that same night, they took a long flight back to Japan.

Of course Yuuri was happy to see his family again, but he hadn't slept on the flight at all, he couldn't tell why. Whatever it had been, it hadn't helped his current state of leached out. Another thing that didn't help was the Japanese winter at home. Barcelona had been pleasantly cool but he found himself unable to deal with the temperatures at home. He didn't want any more cold, he just wanted the warmth of home.

Having stomped through more snow on the way into Yuu-topia than in his entire time in Russia, Yuuri plopped into his bed first thing after coming home. He knew his family was going to celebrate his Victuuri [whoospie didn't mean to misspell that *proceeds without correcting*] and his return home. But they understood and sent Makkachin to keep Yuuri company. That wasn't exactly the kind of company Yuuri thought he needed right now, he was thankful for the warm and cuddly dog anyway.

When Yuuri woke up in a fit of sneezes the next morning, he didn't pay much mind to it, as his nose had apparently been buried in Makkachin's fur all night. Only when he wanted to stand up did he feel that his head was heavy and his nose was blocked. If his throat hadn't been so sore, he might have cursed, but there was no helping it now. So Yuuri settled back into his bed and tried not to think of what would happen if no one came to take Makkachin for his morning walk.

Victor showed up almost immediately after Yuri had finally gotten comfortable in his blanket cocoon. He blinked in surprise when he saw Yuri's bed and the cinnamon roll it. Makkachin decided to jump his owner before he could say anything and Victor left.

Minutes of Yuuri staring at the closed door irritatedly later, Mari showed up and diagnosed her brother with a bad cold. He got breakfast in bed and was advised to stay there.

Yuuri really liked the idea of chilling in bed for a few days after all the turmoil of the last weeks. He did not like how dull it was in practice though. He was bored to death after just two hours of catching up on Twitter and found himself on the floor because he was rolling around restlessly.

Victor was not as surprised to find Yuuri like that as he maybe should have been. He brought herbal tea and draped Yuuri back into bed without comment, then checked his temperature while looking deep into Yuuri's eyes and coming that little bit too close.

Yuuri was just going to protest when Victor's serious expression finally made place for a big smile.

“You don't seem to have a fever, Yuuri. I'm glad. Get some rest so you're better soon, al-right?” His voice alone was so warm that Yuuri didn't think he needed the mug of tea that Victor now placed in his hands.

“Thank you” he stammered, meaning the tea. “I will” he wanted to add but coughed instead. His throat was too sore for this.

“Careful” Victor smiled gently and held the mug until the shaking that accompanied coughs subsidised. At last, he pressed a kiss on Yuuri's messy hair and set the tea down before he left with a last grin in Yuuri's direction. He was gone faster than Yuuri could croak “Thank you”, which given that Yuuri was Japanese and raised to be polite, was worthy of Sonic the Hedgehog.

The tea at least gave Yuuri something to pay attention to. When that was gone he already felt less like coughing, and settled back with Twitter. He was just hoarsely giggling about a tweet of Leo de la Iglesia complaining that Guang-Hong Ji was never online these days when lunchtime came around and Victor came, again with a tablet.

“What's so funny?” he asked, one eyebrow attractively raised in curiosity.

“J-Just Twitter” Yuuri said softly, not trusting his voice, but mostly surprised to see Victor suddenly in his room. He mentally patted his own shoulder for putting all those posters down back then.

“Oh really? Let me see!” and before Yuuri knew, Victor had set the tablet safely down and was pressing against his side through the blankets, trying to get a look at the phone screen.

“Victor!” Yuuri breathed. Half a year ago, he would probably have squealed and ran away, but now he just wanted to lean into Victor, who was eagerly oogling the phone screen with a wide grin. Yuuri couldn't help but feel like this man was exactly kind of warmth he needed to get rid of this cold.  
Just when Victor's gaze lifted from the device to look at Yuuri again, the young skater remembered that he was sick. His lips parted in sync with Victor's, but he did it to speak.

“I'm sick, Victor. You should stay back until I'm better. I don’t want to pass this onto you” Hearing himself utter those words reminded Yuuri of a similar situation on the second day of the Cup of China. Around Yuuri cars, before him Victor and inside him fear of losing the person he had grown so attached to. He hoped Victor didn't recall that too right now. This was not something anyone of them enjoyed remembering.  
Victor listened and pulled back with a sigh. Then he was beaming at Yuuri again.

“You're right.” Then he let his stunning features shift into something more infantile, making him seem needy. “That's why you need to get better soon, okay?”

Yuuri swallowed air at that display. All the chill that he had kept up was gone in a second. But the space in his head that had been taken up by chill was now filled with determination. There was not only skating and his family (and probably a whole bunch of paparazzi) to get healthy for but also his sinamon roll of a boyfriend.

“What's for lunch?” Yuuri asked Victor when he rose from the bed and maybe, maybe he just asked to distract himself from how those sweats fell around Victor.

“I made some soup!” Victor declared as he presented Yuuri with his lunch, a steaming bowl of red semi-liquid something. Yuuri automatically muttered his thanks but was actually rather unsettled by the sight. Still, he was grateful for the food and took the tablet, carefully tasting what Victor hadn't dared to call Borschtsch.

It was definitely a lot of things, hot, for example, and yummy, but Borschtsch it was not. Victor seemed endeared by Yuuri digging in with that much enjoyment and happily watched as Yuuri cleared the bowl about as fast as could be deemed polite.

The thanks that Victor received then were genuine and warmed both men's hearts. Victor almost got swept away at the sight of a well-nourished and contently blushed Yuuri. He did not resist his body sitting down and taking Yuuri's hand. The way that Yuuri blushed when he leaned in now reminded him a little of that time in April when Victor had just moved in. That time however, Yuuri hadn't let his newly-appointed coach come this close.

Now their foreheads laid together both holding eye contact until Victor (blindly!) reached for the tablet on Yuuri's lap and took it.

“You look a lot better now.” perfectly moisturised lips charmed, tearing Yuuri's look down. Victor mistook that as a perfect time to stand up and leave Yuuri to get better by himself. He was accompanied out by a less croaky but rather desperate torrent of “Thank you”s.

Yuuri spent the afternoon mostly rolling around on his bed, stuck in memories of the past year. Besides the happiness about winning the Grand Prix, there was anger against the Russian and Japanese homophobic legislation, a lot of stress and angst, caused by Makkachin and stage fright. That alone would have been enough to have Yuuri stand in his bed every fifteen minutes.

Additionally, there was almost every possible emotion in connection with Victor or a memory of him. From fear of losing him, fear to embarrassing himself in front of him over memories of Victor assuring him time and time again when he needed it. The spectrum turned into amazement, the kind he had felt back when he was a kid, whenever he got information on his idol. Although he was not an idol to Yuuri any more, he sometimes caught himself adoring his coach in a similar way these days. The rest of the spectrum was him loving Victor. It started with how they had supported Yurio at the Rostelecom Cup and later, at the Finals. They had been like an old couple cheering on their child. It had been a completely new kind of togetherness, yet Yuuri was determined to expand this. He had enjoyed his father role, and so had Victor, as far as he could tell. Then, just before the spectrum would fade into a nothingness of sensuality, there were memories like Victor hugging him from behind, every time of him skating “On Love: Eros” and finally, a very special memory guarded the bridge to unknown territory.

Recalling that now made Yuuri fall out of the bed. He was too taken aback to notice his door sliding open once again. The blanket was nothing like the ice that he had fell on, but the embrace of his blanket cocoon came fairly close to Victor holding him, sweetly shielding his head so he wouldn't hit it on the ice. And the only thing missing were Victor's lips on his. Subconsciously, Yuuri must have reached up for his mouth, wanting to feel the memory, wanting to know what it was like to really kiss Victor, not to have him surprise Yuuri like that.

The intruder raised their voice before Yuuri could embarrass himself further, a few more moments of this and his body would have noticeably reacted.

“Yuuri? Do you have a fever after all?” A very familiar voice shook him back into reality.

It was Yuuri's mum. Luckily, she was too busy with her concerns about the sick son on the cold floor to notice what exact position she found him in. Yuuri was smart enough to pretend he had been searching his glasses once his mind had snapped out of unrealistically realistic images.

“Sweetie, we've been thinking that we don't want to skip Christmas just because you’re not feeling well” the chubby and beloved face explained to him excitedly.

Oh, Christmas. Yuuri had completely forgotten although the upcoming holiday season although it had been the reason for Victor and him to hurry home after the Grand Prix final. Actually, Yuuri had been looking forward to a Christmas with Victor and his family.

While his mum now re-arranged his room so it would fit everyone, Yuuri was relieved that he had had the present be wrapped directly, since there didn't seem to be time to do that now.

Half an hour later, everyone had gathered in his tiny room. Victor and Makkachin had joined him on the bed but it was still cramped. Even more so since everyone had brought presents. Yuuri felt a little bad that he didn't have much to offer to his family, especially after having spend an entire day with Yurio in Moscow searching for a present to give to his coach.

The Russian Punk had really proven helpful. Apparently being Victor's rink mate for three years had proven useful for something.

Before they were allowed to exchange the presents though, Yuuri's dad told the family, not excluding Victor) how much he loved everyone of them.  
“This past year has been amazing thanks to every single one of you. I hope that I'll be able to make just as many marvellous memories with my loved ones next year.” Those worlds filled the room and they were accompanied by warm smiles, starting from his fathers relaxed face and spreading to Mari quickly throughout the small Japanese chamber.

“Thank you so much, dad” Yuuri broke the silence softly. Mostly because he thought that behind his Japanese-style surgery mask, they might have missed how ridiculously he smiled.

Then they exchanged presents. None minded that Yuuri was mostly empty-handed. Yuuri himself found himself too occupied with Victor's present to worry about that anyway.

The box had been so small that Yuuri's heart had stopped for a second. He was still secretly hoping for a proposal. The box was by far less romantic than that, as it only contained a tiny folded piece of paper. With trembling fingers he unfolded the note to find an adorable doodle of Makkachin.

Huffing with amusement, Yuuri examined the scribbling underneath. Since neither Victor, who had written this, nor Yuuri were familiar with Latin letters, it took him quite a while to decipher and understand. It was just one word., “Victuuri”.

“Why are you laughing?” Victor asked anxiously when Yuuri snorted.

“It's spelled V-I-C-T-O-R-Y” Yuuri chuckled and dooted Victor''s nose cheekily. It amused him way too much that his coach would make such a mistake, especially with the word being closely related to his name.

Victor raised a phone with his hand and held it between their faces. “You didn't even see the real present yet” he pouted, unlocking his phone blindly, then holding it in Yuuri's face.

Yuuri squealed without hesitation, then threw his arms around the grey-haired boyfriend.

To satisfy everyone's curiosity as to what was going on, Victor let the family hand the phone around. Yuuri let go off Victor when it came back to look at the screen again. He wanted nothing more than to storm outside now, dragging Victor with him and check out the bundle of floof that would be waiting for him in the inn's lounge.

Yuuri had never been more eager to see a present before, although he now knew what it was. But looking at a phone screen was an entirely different story than finding a new basket in the lounge, seeing that there sleeps a beautiful white poodle puppy in it, to then, overwhelmed by cuteness of the drooling ball of fur, pick it up from the basked carefully, with tender hands to not awake it, but still move it enough to make the bell ring at his collar.

Still in disbelief, Yuuri would check out the collar and find that the bell was not the only thing attached to the red-and-green ribbon. There would be another note. And that was where Yuuri's imagination was cut off because from the picture on Victor's phone it was impossible to tell what the colourfully printed paper had written on it.

Victor was happy to provide, though. He did so by swiping the glass for the next picture. It was a complete change of scene, showing Victor selfie-style, holding that exact paper to his (pursed!) lips and winking for the camera.

Oh and the paper said “Merry Christmas”, but Yuuri was so stunned at the sight that he didn't read it. This time, his thanks came late and were cut short by the realization that that exact sight was not only in front of him but sitting next to him. Actually, leaning against his side. In his bed. Just why was the rest of his family also in the room?

“So you like it?” Mari asked from the side, starting to pick wrappers up from the floor. “You'd better, given I took care of him while you were in Barcelona!” she grinned mischievously.

“So you all wanted to surprise me? Thank you!” Yuuri was close to crying happy tears. He had to properly thank his parents for that, Mari, too. His family were just talking about going back to work in Japanese though. As sad as that was for Christmas, Yuuri understood that the guests needed service. Besides, he wanted to be alone with Victor.

He swallowed audibly after the door had slid close. “Thank you, Victor!” Yuuri started breathlessly and turned to Victor, ready to babble on about how much he loved that present, who shrugged it off. Instead of answering he pressed a kiss on Yuuri's nose through the mask. “Uh, thank-”

“It's nothing, Yuuri, you don't have to thank me for treating my favourite Katsu-don the best I can” reflexively, Yuuri thanked Victor for the compliment.

“Geez, Yuuri, you don't have to keep saying that” Victor chuckled and Yuuri furrowed his eyebrows, confused in his polite being. “What am I supposed to say then?” he asked genuinely.

“How about” Victor joined their hands together on Makkachin's back, which brought him a lot closer to Yuuri “'I love you'?” He had not broken their eye contact yet but did so for the sake of standing now.

“I still have to tidy up the kitchen from earlier”, he smirked, huffing a tired laugh “Seriously, it looks like a slaughterhouse.” Viktor elaborated, underlining his words with widened his eyes.

Yuuri didn't buy any of Victor's joking, knowing he was supposed to say it now. Why was he so anxious all of a sudden? He heard Victor step towards the door, he didn't have all the time in the world, he would have to say it right fucking now.

He couldn't. When he opened his mouth, nothing but incomprehensive sounds came out. It was rather scary and even Victor lost his cool for a splitsecond.

“I love you, too”, he said then, regaining his smile. Moments later, the door was closed behind him, leaving Yuuri to stare at the wood in disbelief.

“Did that really just happen?” He asked Makkachin. The dog answered by licking his face,

Well then. Yuuri sighed and let himself fall back into the covers. Somehow, he really was feeling better now.

 

Yuuri had a feeling of deja vu when he woke up with a heated head, a dog-shaped figure cuddled against him. But this morning, that wasn't accompanied by a sore throat and sneezes. Rather than that, he was covered in sweat and hurried to get out from under his ten thousand blankets.  
Knowing that the redness of his skin was not only caused by temperature did not stop Yuuri from tearing the window open and taking deep breaths.  
How long had he laid awake yesterday, thinking about that confession Victor had brought forward with that sweet and genuine face.

It didn't matter. Right now, Yuuri just wanted to see Victor's face. Healthy and refreshed, he left his room. He had had the mind to close the window but ignored teared wrappers on the floor and forgot about Makkachin still laying in his bed, fast asleep. He had other dogs in mind.

In record time he was outside Victor's room and knocked. There was no answer. Yuuri was about to take that personally, but Mari appeared next to him carrying a laundry basket and asking what the hell he was doing in the hallways at five in the morning when he was supposed to be sick in bed.

That left Yuuri really conflicted about waking Victor up. He decided not to risk Victor getting mad at him and was going to sneak back into bed when a certain mountain of fur came to cut him off and knock him over.

Over his own yelp. Yuuri didn't hear the door to Victor's room slide open.

“What the- Makkachin!” It was honestly remarkable how quickly Victor was bright awake given the time, but he was and he used his mind to send Makkachin, a “very bad boy”, to the kitchen and coax Yuuri into his room gently.

“Are you alright?” he asked and turned Yuuri around in front of him for inspection. Yuuri nodded and wanted to speak, what was he doing in Victor's room at five in the morning?, but Victor wasn't done. “And what were you doing knocking on my door at this time anyway?”

There was a silence in which Yuuri opened and closed his mouth without being able to formulate anything. Actually, he had been thinking that he shouldn't check out “Victuuri” or whatever the puppy's name would be without Victor so he had wanted to get his boyfriend.

“Did you come because you feel better?” Victor finally suggested, hunching down a bit to get into Yuuri's field of vision. Again a nod from Yuuri. Close enough. Victor's lips opened for a grin and Yuuri was tackled into a passionate embrace.

“Victor...” Yuuri began, having found his voice. He held Victor out in front of him, as much as he like that embrace, and looked into those aquamarine eyes. There was still something he needed to say.

“I love you, Victor Nikiforov”

It seemed like Victor had just waited for that or something likewise consentual because now he pounced Yuuri, who for a moment didn't see anything but grey hair and was taken aback by how much Makkachin was alike his owner.

Yuuri lacked the vocabulary to describe what happened then. Just like he didn't know when he had gotten on Victors bed, he didn't remember the point where their clothes went flying. Actually, since when had Victors perfect lips been on his? Everything was so perfect right now, so soft and hot and just right, Yuuri hadn't even been able to close his eyes to savour it fully.

That enabled him to follow Victor's blurry figure, wait where were his glasses all of a sudden?, when it covered his body with hot kisses. Yuuri shivered from the chill of saliva and air against his aroused skin but it was no different from all the shivers Victor's hands and lips, oh god his lips, were giving him.

There was no time for Yuuri to be embarrassed when Victor reached his crotch and continued his exploratory mission down there.

Soon enough, Yuuri was reduced to a mess, unable to formulate anything beyond vowels and something frighteningly resembling “Vic-chan”. It wasn't long until he reached his limits. But it wouldn't be the last time.

By the time they were told that breakfast was ready, even Yuuri had reached the last reserves of stamina. In that exhausted state, he finally remembered a certain puppy that would be waiting for him in the lounge. Victor seemed almost hurt when Yuuri mad-dashed out of his room but he followed slowly, old man as he was.

And there the basket was, just like in the photo on Victor's phone. It was empty though.

Yuuri only heard a bell ringing before he was jumped on by both Makkachin and a white puppy, who just so happened to not be trampled by the bigger floof. Luckily, Victor arrived in time to hold Yuuri before he could fall. Body of an ice skater or not, he would never stand a chance against an assault of doggo and gratefully squeezed Victors hand that suddenly laid on his side. To hold him steady, of course.

“Woah, they sure love doing that with you.” Victor giggled, and he was right, Makkachin really did this often. ”You should have a look at his collar” that familiar Russian voice advised him from behind, reminding him that there was not only Makkachin.

And so Yuuri picked the white poodle up and took three licks in the face while he fumbled with that scratch of paper. What was this about anyway, hadn't Victor showed him the writing on it yesterday? Yuuri carefully opened the festively printed card. Before he read it though, he had to set a pedalling Victuuri down.

Yuuri could clearly feel Victor tensing while he took his sweet time reading this. His smile gave it away. Maybe Yuuri's tears of joy were making him easy to read. He didn't care.

“YES” he whispered. He wanted to scream it, wanted to have the entire inn, the entire nation, know. Just. His throat was completely blocked. It was hard to breathe, thinking about what big a decision he had just made, until Victor pulled their chests together. He pressed a kiss on the smaller man and sniffled. No way, Victor Nikiforov crying. Yuuri gazed up in wonder.

“You make me so happy” Victor sighed, his eyes shining more than usual with wetness.

Surrounded by his family after the earlier events of that morning was worse than last year's nationals. How could he have thought that that had been awkward to deal with? Now, Victor was nonchalantly digging in next to him. Everyone, especially Makkachin, seemed happy to see Yuuri well (though it could just Makkachin being overjoyed about having another playmate) and his parents kept him busy, joking and assigning him chores for the new year, amongst which was dog-walking.

If it hadn't been for Victor sometimes shoving Yuuri's glasses up out of nowhere and then suddenly Yuuri's parents asking if he could help out at “Yuu-topia” as well, if it hadn't been for a white puppy to dorkily chase around their table, it it hadn't been for Yuuri silently wondering whether Victor Katsuki or Yuri Nikiforov sounded better, it would have been like every other Christmas morning. And Yuuri loved that it was not.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> I would greatly appreachiate some feedback in the comments.


End file.
